


I hunt for you (with bloody feet across the hallow ground)

by Yukichouji



Series: Werewolf Sweet Pea AU [1]
Category: Archie Comics & Related Fandoms, Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: AU, Claiming, Dubious Consent, Fingerfucking, Jughead gets off, Kink Meme, Knotting, M/M, Marking, Werewolf!Sweet Pea, Werewolves, dub-con, knots, look at me upping my tagging game, no beastiality, non-con knotting, not as dark as it sounds?, promt fill, werewolf anatomy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-11
Updated: 2019-12-11
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:29:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21757339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yukichouji/pseuds/Yukichouji
Summary: Sweet Pea was born a monster.A beast out of a child’s nightmare.The hunger for violence, the thrill of the hunt thrumming through his blood like a second heartbeat and a soul that sings with darkness, ebbing and flowing with the moon’s siren call, just like the tide. When his mistress hangs round and full in the black of the sky, his bones break and his skin tears and the wolf within devours his human half to come forth and rule the night like it was made to.
Relationships: Jughead Jones/Sweet Pea
Series: Werewolf Sweet Pea AU [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1689127
Comments: 18
Kudos: 114
Collections: Riverdale Kinkmeme





	I hunt for you (with bloody feet across the hallow ground)

**Author's Note:**

> I am pretty much stressed out of my mind rn and I needed a break from the longer, decidedly more complicated story I am currently working on, so I decided to indulge myself a little. I blame the kink meme for this entirely.
> 
> Fill for [this](https://riverdale-kinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/1356.html?thread=750668#cmt750668) promt on the kink meme:
> 
> "Sweet Pea's a werewolf, and Jughead is human.
> 
> Jughead is low-key crushing on him, and Sweet Pea *knows*, because he's a friggin werewolf, and he can sense that shit. He's decided not to do anything about it, because it's a Bad Idea.
> 
> But then it's really close to the full moon, and Jughead turns up at his trailer or something, and Sweet Pea's instincts are really close to the surface, and he can't help himself.
> 
> It's rough, and it's primal, and Jughead is claimed.
> 
> Maybe Sweet Pea even goes a little wolfy at the end? I wouldn't be averse!"
> 
> Though I must admit that my fill turned out a _tad bit_ darker than the prompt perhaps called for. Oh, well. I just could _not_ resist werewolf Sweet Pea for the life of me. My brain just kind of went hagjkdghöasldkjf and here we are *shrugs*  
Enjoy~
> 
> P.S.: Title shamelessly stolen form ['Howl' by Florence and the Machine](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JZweDwbJ_Ic)

~*~*~

Sweet Pea was born a monster.

A beast out of a child’s nightmare.

The hunger for violence, the thrill of the hunt thrumming through his blood like a second heartbeat and a soul that sings with darkness, ebbing and flowing with the moon’s siren call, just like the tide. When his mistress hangs round and full in the black of the sky, his bones break and his skin tears and the wolf within devours his human half to come forth and rule the night like it was made to.

Moon Kissed is what his people used to call such as he is, a gift, an honor to be chosen, to be given such power. Now, the gift has turned into a curse and what he sees in the eyes of those, who glimpse his true form is nothing but terror. So he hides. From all but a scant few, the handful of people he trusts with his life. His family, Fangs, Toni, and that’s it.

And he’s gotten good at hiding, too. He’s had 17 years to learn to control the beast he shares his body with, the darkness and the hunger, his grandmother a good teacher, the best he could have asked for. At least until she passed when he turned 15. The last of his true kind that he knows of, besides himself.

Hiding is what kept him alive.

And then that fucking Northside pretty boy on his high fucking horse with his stupid attitude, his big, bright eyes, his soft, full lips and his pale, slender neck, walks into Sweet Pea’s life and everything just kind of slides off the rails. Sweet Pea will never understand how someone so small, so fucking b_reakable_ can think that he’d have a chance going up against Sweet Pea, even if Sweet Pea were just a regular human. And still, Jughead just keeps on challenging him every step of the way, acting like he’s better than him and his friends, like he doesn’t need any of them. Right up until he comes crawling back to them, his tail tucked between his legs because some Ghoulie thought it was damn time to teach him a lesson and if that doesn’t make Sweet Pea practically glow with malicious joy at seeing him being taken down a peg, being shown how the world _really_ works around here and that having an attitude and a superiority complex is is going to get your teeth knocked in at best, he doesn’t know what would.

But, of course, the lesson isn’t one that sticks. Jughead’s attitude snaps right back into place in no time and Sweet Pea’s anger flares back up with a vengeance, harder to control with every damn day that passes. Harder the closer the moon comes to the peak of her cycle and, oh, he’s in so much fucking trouble.

The thing is, and it takes Sweet Pea embarrassingly long to figure it out even though it should have been obvious right from the start, the reason why he’s reacting so uncharacteristically strongly to Jughead and his fucking demeanor is because he _wants_ Jughead. Not to maim and slash, to tear out his throat and watch as he drowns in his own fucking blood, but to claim, to mark, to make Jughead his in the oldest and most primal way he can think of. Sweet Pea’s wolf sings at the thought, eager and restless and once he’s figured it out, he has to ball his hands into almost painful fists to keep them at his side, to keep himself from reaching out and shoving Jughead to his knees, from just _taking _what he wants in front of everyone.

He tries to run from the inevitable, tries to avoid that arrogant child with his too big eyes and too pretty hair, with his slender wrists and delicate, restless hands, as best he can, hides away in his trailer the night before the full moon so as not to tempt himself. But for some reason Jughead finds him none the less and he can’t help but think that, perhaps, this is fate after all. It’s the only explanation that makes sense to him. The only way he can find reason in Jughead banging on his trailer’s front door at half past eleven, the moon high and bright in the center of the night sky, trickling through his window like beckoning fingers, calling out to him, singing with the energy of the change.

And so he gives up his fight and lets his instincts take over, the beast heavy in his eyes as he yanks open his door, the metal creaking under his hand’s grip. “What do you want?” He growls, Jughead’s scent invading his space, clean and spicy like the forest at night, fresh earth and pine needles and rotting leaves, even if none of that makes any sense.

A smarter man would have shrunken back form him, but Jughead is only smart when it comes to books and movies, school and murder mysteries, never when it comes to self-preservation. So he takes Sweet Pea’s attitude as a challenge instead, shoving past him, into Sweet Pea’s trailer, his home, his _territory_, invading it like he has the right to. Chin held high and shoulders squared, finger raised and pointing accusingly.

“How the fuck did you think it would be a good idea to threaten Reggie, the captain of the God damn football team with a fucking switchblade?” Jughead rants at him, blissfully unaware of Sweet Pea’s fraying control, of the way his eyes gleam in the semi-dark of the trailer, how his chest rises and falls as he breathes Jughead’s anger in, sharp and bitter, just like blood. “You’re lucky you just got suspended for a week and not kicked out entirely! We’ve been trying so hard to make a place for ourselves at Riverdale High and you just set us back to square one! Why?!”

Sweet Pea could call him out on his fucking hypocrisy, remind him of the time he came to school in his Serpents’ leathers just to make a stupid fucking point right after Weatherbee had told him not to and he got suspended himself for causing trouble, for getting into a fight with Reggie and his stupid, brainless entourage. Or he could try to explain how it was Reggie, who started the whole damn thing and Sweet Pea was only defending himself, when he pulled his blade, that he’d maybe overreacted just the tiniest bit, because it was so fucking close to the full moon and his control was fraying as it was.

“Shut up.” Sweet Pea _growls_ instead and oh, the way that Jughead’s eyes widen at that, the way his confidence falters as he really looks at Sweet Pea for the first time since he got here, fear slowly creeping in as he realizes that something’s not _right_, that he, perhaps, made a fatal mistake in coming here. But it’s already too late for any of that. It makes Sweet Pea want to take a step forward, then another, until he has Jughead pinned against the wall of his trailer, trapped and helpless and afraid and so that’s exactly what he does. There’s no use in trying to fight it anymore. The hunger in his blood boils and gurgles like a living thing and he _needs_ something to stifle it with.

“What are you –?” Jughead says, voice small all of a sudden, as he stares up at Sweet Pea, hands coming up to push at his chest, but Sweet Pea is so much stronger than him it’s laughable. It’s like a rabbit trying to fight off a wolf, the outcome clear and inevitable.

Sweet Pea grabs his slender wrists and shoves them against the metal of the trailer’s wall and Jughead makes a scared little sound in the back of his throat that’s just about the sweetest thing Sweet Pea’s ever heard. The beast in him seeing only prey, trapped and at his mercy, his to do with as he pleases. He surges forward and crushes Jughead’s mouth with his own, rough and heated, _hungry_, and Jughead’s lips are just as soft and full as they look.

Jughead tenses against him, then gasps and archs, strains against him like there’s anything at all it will do except spur Sweet Pea on, fan the flames that are raging in his chest and he exploits the opening Jughead is giving him mercilessly. Shoves his tongue into Jughead’s mouth to taste him, to chase after that intoxicating scent, make it his in a different way and Jughead bangs his head back against the wall, trying to get away, but Sweet Pea just follows, his tongue licking over Jughead’s, fucking into his mouth wet and messy and hot and they’re both fighting for breath when he finally pulls back.

Jughead’s face is red with embarrassment or anger or arousal, Sweet Pea doesn’t really care, and his lashes are wet, clumping together, his lips spit slick and glistening in the moon’s pale light and it makes another growl rise up from his chest, hungry and possessive. He reaches out and yanks that stupid fucking beanie from Jughead’s head, Jughead’s hair tumbling over his forehead and into his eyes, dark and wavy and perfect and Jughead tries to stop him, to snatch the damn thing back, but Sweet Pea avoids him easily. Tosses it to the floor uncaring of where it lands and then charges right back in.

His fingers glide into the freed length of Jughead’s hair, fisting the strands, tangling them around his fingers so he can use the grip to hold Jughead still as he kisses him again and it’s everything Sweet Pea imagined. So fucking soft, silky smooth underneath his palms, Jughead’s scent stronger now, and Sweet Pea pulls at his hair only to hear the way it makes Jughead whimper into the kiss and God, that’s hot. But it’s also not enough, not even close.

He lets go of Jughead’s hair reluctantly and grabs the lapels of Jughead’s leather jacket, the one he wears like a damn shield, like he has any right to brandish the symbol he used to hate so much, and yanks it down Jughead’s shoulders, spins him around and pulls it off of his wrists.

“Sweet Pea!” Jughead rushes out, a breathy warning that does exactly nothing to deter Sweet Pea, the scent of fear thick and heavy in the air, sweet like molasses, sugar and spice, and Sweet Pea grabs at his shoulders, his arms, and pushes until Jughead’s down on Sweet Pea’s ratty old carpet on his hands and knees, follows him down and drapes himself over Jughead’s back like a dark and heavy blanket.

Jughead pants and shakes in his arms, hot and alive, vibrating against Sweet Pea’s chest, so fragile, so enticing and he whimpers when Sweet Pea reaches around and tears at his belt, opening it with clumsy fingers and yanking it free of the loops in his khakis. Sweet Pea is hard in his jeans, throbbing and pulsing, has been ever since he opened the door to his trailer, maybe even before then, he’s not sure anymore. Everything is drenched in a red haze of heat and want and he pushes his hips forward against Jughead’s ass, hard enough to make Jughead’s knees scrape across the carpet and Jughead makes a startled little ‘ah’ sound, almost like a sob, at the feel of it.

“Sweet Pea, wait! Don’t –!” Jughead’s voice sounds panicked, pleading, but Sweet Pea is so far beyond that, he couldn’t stop himself even if he wanted to. So he reaches around, his palm sliding up Jughead’s flat chest, across his fragile throat and further, until he can shove three of his fingers into Jughead’s mouth to shut him up. Jughead chokes around the intrusion, spit pooling onto Sweet Pea’s palm as he yanks at Jughead’s trousers with his free hand, tugging them down around his thighs along with his boxers, the bared skin pale and perfect, beautiful and alluring, and Sweet Pea grabs the hem of Jughead’s shirt and shoves it up until it bunches underneath his arms, just to get to see more of it. It’s glorious the way the moonlight spills across the width of Jughead’s back, the roundness of his ass, the smattering of moles across his skin a perfect counterpoint to the paleness and he slides his free palm along the length of Jughead’s spine just to feel him shiver.

The beast inside him wants _so much_ and he bears down as Jughead bucks against him in another feeble attempt to push him off, pulls his fingers from Jughead’s mouth and leans forward again, heavy against Jughead’s back as he reaches between them. He wraps one arm, strong and broad around Jughead’s chest to hold him still as his fingers slide between the soft, round cheeks of his ass and find the puckered muscle there.

Jughead keens and jerks in his arms like he’s been shocked when Sweet Pea pushes in, one finger, up to the last knuckle in one smooth glide, the tight, velvety soft heat that clenches at him like it’s trying to suck him in deeper making him groan, making his vision blur and the bones in his back sift dangerously. The beast so close to the surface he can _taste it_. It’s so glaringly obvious that no-one’s touched Jughead like this before, as if it would take a genius to see how cherry he is, Sweet Pea thinks, and the thought that Sweet Pea is the first to take this from him makes him want to howl out his victory. So he opens his mouth and licks across the back of Jughead’s neck instead, tastes salt and bitterness there, sweat and fear and underneath that, the frantic flutter of Jughead’s pulse, calling to him, irresistible like the song of the moon herself.

Sweet Pea pushes in another finger, eager and impatient and Jughead sobs against his forearms, head hanging low, mouth pressed to his own skin as his hands claw helplessly at the fraying carpet, muscles trembling as they strain. The clench around his fingers is so tight it’s almost impossible and out of instinct, Sweet Pea leans forward and closes his teeth over Jughead’s nape, their edges sharp and dangerous as they press against the tender skin.

A weak and miserable sound bubbles up past Jughead’s lips and his whole body tenses, before, with a broken little sob, Jughead goes slack in Sweet Pea’s grip and suddenly, fucking into him is so much easier. Jughead’s body opens up to him like that’s what it was made for, choked off little ‘ah’s and ‘oh’s falling from his mouth with every forward thrust as Jughead pants helplessly, the rise and fall of his back pressed into Sweet Pea’s chest.

Sweet Pea’s so hard it hurts, he can already feel the slight swell where the knot is going to be and he’s growing desperate with it. He scissors his fingers wide enough so that he can shove in a third, his teeth pressing down at the same time, just hard enough to break the skin, the tiniest trace of blood on his tongue a burst of copper and salt, so good it makes him _purr_. Jughead gasps against his forearm, mouth falling open wider as his body goes stiff, then shakes apart, his inner walls twitching around Sweet Pea’s fingers as something warm and sticky paints across the arm that’s holding Jughead up and Sweet Pea realizes with a start that Jughead just _came._ Sweet Pea hadn’t even realized that Jughead was hard in the first place, the scent of fear and arousal so close to each other, mixed up with one another to become heady and intoxicating, making him feel dizzy with it and unable to tell them apart.

Sweet Pea pulls his fingers out and lets go of Jughead, lets him collapse onto the threadbare carpet, a miserable, panting heap, his face red and sticky-wet with a mix of sweat and tears. The globs of white on Sweet Pea’s skin glisten in the light of the moon like pearls and he just can’t resist. He darts out his tongue to lick his arm clean, the taste bitter and salty and so very _Jughead_. Suddenly unable to wait any longer, Sweet Pea moans deep and low and shoves at his jeans with clumsy fingers, his dick bobbing out as it springs fee of its uncomfortable confines. He spits into his hand once, twice, then uses that to coat his dick with it until it’s slippery and shiny and even the touch of his own hand is so good he has to close his eyes and just concentrate on breathing for a moment.

When Sweet Pea reaches out for Jughead’s hips to pull him back up onto his knees, Jughead makes a weak sound of protest, trying to get his arms under him but failing, uncoordinated and clumsy with the aftermath of his orgasm. Sweet Pea pulls Jughead’s cheeks apart to reveal his hole, wet and glistening and the moon pours across his skin like she’s making a claim, singing to Sweet Pea like a siren, so beautiful, so irresistible. He spit again and watches with proprietorial satisfaction as the glob of saliva glides across the twitching ring of muscle, Jughead wincing at the feeling.

Sweet Pea wraps one arm around Jughead’s hips to hold him still and uses his free hand to line himself up, the slightly pointy tip of his dick crowding insistently against Jughead’s asshole. Then he shoves forward and just like that, loose and boneless in his arms, Jughead opens up for him. But even with that it’s still so fucking tight that Sweet Pea sees stars dance across his vision when the head slides in, Jughead’s insides clutching at him desperately, and Jughead makes a sound like he’s been punched, the air knocked out of his lungs and his elegant artist’s hands tightening into helpless little fists. The red haze in Sweet Pea’s mind, the heat gurgling in his blood, the wordless call of the his mistress moon urging him to make Jughead _his_, it all rises up to consume him and he keeps pushing, keeps shoving his hips forward heedless of Jughead’s weak and choked off protests.

When Sweet Pea finally bottoms out, Jughead is a desperate, shaking, panting mess in his arms and Sweet Pea snakes an arm over his smooth chest, the skin soft and sweat-slick against his palm, and uses that grip to heft Jughead up, until they’re both kneeling on the carpet, Jughead’s trembling back against Sweet Pea’s chest. Jughead’s head falls back to loll against Sweet Pea’s shoulder, eyes screwed shut and half obscured by the messy strands of his bangs, mouth hanging open as he sucks in shaky little gasps of breaths, trying to breath through the feeling of being filled so completely.

The look is perfect on him, Sweet Pea thinks and with a growl, almost inhuman in its depth, he begins to thrust his hips, setting up a smooth, merciless rhythm. The angle is perfect like this, the pressure around his dick so, so good and Jughead jerks in his arms with every forwards motion, something caught between a sob and a moan tumbling from his kiss-swollen lips like the sweetest song Sweet Pea’s ever heard. He looses himself in the feeling, in the tight, velvety heat of Jughead’s body clenching around his dick, in the feeling of Jughead’s lithe frame pressed against his own, the way the difference in build makes Sweet Pea feel stronger and bolder, _powerful _in an addictive sort way. The feeling of Jughead’s hands clawing at Sweet Pea’s forearms, no longer trying to dislodge his grip, just so very desperate for anything to hold onto, the way the muscles in Jughead’s flat stomach flutter underneath Sweet Pea’s touch as he runs his broad palm across it.

And, oh, the way Sweet Pea can almost _feel_ the outline of his dick as he thrusts into him when he presses his palm down on the soft stretch of skin just beneath Jughead’s navel and how the action makes Jughead keen like a wounded animal, the tip of Jughead’s dick, swollen and red and sticky with precome, already hard again, bumping against the back of Sweet Pea’s hand. It makes Sweet Pea groan into the side of Jughead’s neck, arched wide and bared for him and Sweet Pea can’t resist the urge to _bite _again, to sink his teeth into the pale, vulnerable arch, just shy of breaking skin. Jughead’s hands tighten on Sweet Pea’s arms, digging in almost painfully and he sobs out a broken little sound, head shoved hard against Sweet Pea’s shoulder.

Sweet Pea keeps up the demanding pace of his thrusts, fucking into Jughead deep and smooth, the beginning swell of his knot catching at Jughead’s rim deliciously with every in and out motion and it’s already getting harder to push the base of his dick into him, the fit just that little bit tighter every time he shoves in. Not long now and it won’t fit at all anymore. Sweet Pea can feel his orgasm building like a tidal wave and the closer he gets the more animalistic he feels, the closer he comes to the change taking over.

He can already feel his skin stretch awkwardly over shifting bones, muscles straining underneath, his face tingling, burning with the way his jaw begins to bulge, elongate, his teeth growing sharper yet. His fingers prickle uncomfortably as his nails begin to widen at the base and grow sharp and pointy at the tips, molding into claws and he has to be so careful not to nick Jughead’s skin where he’s touching him. Jughead is starting to babble again, pleading with Sweet Pea, his words and his voice a mess, _it’s too much, too big, it won’t fit, he can’t take it_.

But Sweet Pea just shushes him and Jughead sobs helplessly as Sweet Pea bucks his hips forwards one last time, forcing his swelling knot past the almost painfully tight ring of muscle, so deep and so perfect and then he’s tumbling over the edge, a groan torn from his morphing throat, eerie and wild like the wind howling through the treetops at night.

Jughead almost chokes on a yell, following Sweet Pea over the edge as Sweet Pea’s knot swells inside of him, pressing down against his prostate relentlessly and Jughead’s body clenches down around Sweet Pea involuntarily, making Jughead sob and twitch in his grip as Sweet Pea pulses out his release. It feels so fucking good, waves of heat, of electric pleasure sparking up his spine, washing over him, making his vision grow fuzzy at the edges as he rides it out, waiting for the feeling to slowly fizzle out.

Jughead sags in his arms, fighting for breath, his t-shirt still bunched up underneath his arms, his pants a constricting loop around his thighs and Sweet Pea carefully lowers the two of them to the ground. He makes sure to drop them onto their sides, Jughead cradled against Sweet Pea’s chest, so that Sweet Pea doesn’t accidentally crush the kid, shocky little sounds tumbling from his lips every time Sweet Pea moves inside of him, overstimulated.

Slowly, as Sweet Pea comes down form the rush of boiling blood, form the intoxicating high of giving in to his instincts, to the moon’s beckoning call, his body shifts back into his wholly human form, aside from the knot on his dick. That, he knows from experience, will stay for a while. Sweet Pea buries his nose in Jughead’s hair, breathes him in, that same intoxicating scent that’s been calling to him ever since the first time they’d crossed paths, Jughead’s first day at Southside High when he’d refused to sit with them at lunch and looked at them like they were worth less than the dirt under his shoes. There would be no more of that, Sweet Pea thinks, feeling darkly satisfied, not after tonight.

He pulls back just enough so that he can turn Jughead’s face enough to make him look at Sweet Pea, Sweet Pea’s fingers wiping at the tear tracks on his cheek as he cradles it. Jughead’s eyes are wet and puffy as he opens them, his lips swollen and shiny, little indents in the bottom one where Jughead had sunk his teeth in too harshly. Leaning forward until they’re mouths are almost touching, Jughead’s breath hot little puffs of air against Sweet Pea’s mouth, Sweet Pea whispers, low and dark, the words almost ritualistc: “You’re mine now. I have claimed you, I have marked you. We are tied together. You belong to me. How does it feel?”

Jughead pulls in a shaky breath, his full bottom lip trembling with it, almost choking on it as Sweet Pea shifts his hips. “It hurts.” Jughead presses out, breathless and small, so miserable that it almost makes Sweet Pea feel sorry for him. He purrs against Jughead’s lips before leaning in and pressing their mouths together again. The angle is awkward but Jughead’s lips are soft and full and pliant underneath his own, the fight drained out of him completely as he lets Sweet Pea manipulate him whichever way Sweet Pea wants and that’s so much better than his previous attitude, Sweet Pea thinks. He fucks his tongue into Jughead’s mouth, slides it across Jughead’s in a sinuous glide, wanting to taste him again and Jughead opens up to him sweet as anything, breath hitching dangerously as Sweet Pea begins to roll his hips into him, the motion shooting little sparks of pleasure up Sweet Pea’s spine. Aftershocks that tingle down to his toes and make him moan into the kiss.

“_Don’t_.” Jughead whimpers as soon as Sweet Pea pulls back form the kiss, his face turning away to press into the crook of his arm, hands clutching at Sweet Pea as he tries to muffle the miserable little sounds he’s making against his own skin. Instead, Sweet Pea reaches down and wraps a warm, broad hand around Jughead’s already half-hard dick, stroking lazily in time with the motion of his hips, knowing that his knot must grind against Jughead’s prostate with every shallow thrust and it makes Jughead sob beautifully, entirely helpless, at Sweet Pea’s mercy as Sweet Pea works him to full hardness again.

It’s so intense that it can’t possibly last and it hardly takes Sweet Pea any effort at all to make Jughead come again, the third time altogether, the sound that Jughead makes when he does almost closer to pain than pleasure, as he muffles his sob against his elbow, jerking in Sweet Pea’s grip like he’s been shocked. A sad little trickle of come seeps over Sweet Pea’s fingers, the orgasm almost dry and Sweet Pea decides to have mercy on him after that, lets go of his softening dick and stills his hips for good this time, despite how good it feels to have Jughead clench around him, how it makes Sweet Pea shiver and sigh and lick across the bite marks on Jughead’s neck.

This, Sweet Pea decides, this is how things are going to be from now on.

No more high fucking horses, no more smart remarks or unsure loyalties, no more questions about whether Jughead is actually on their side or not, because there’s no fucking way Sweet Pea is ever going to let him go after this. And Jughead will bend to Sweet Pea’s will because Sweet Pea has made him _his_, with the moon as his witness, round and glorious as she hangs in the black outside of his window, pleased at the offering she was brought.

And Sweet Pea _will _make sure that Jughead comes to enjoy his surrender, with time, he may be a monster, Sweet Pea thinks, but he’s not cruel unless he needs to be. He can be soft, gentle, even, when he wants to. His fingers wipe at the moisture on Jughead’s cheeks, card through his hair and massage his scalp as Jughead tries to catch his breath, a boneless, fucked out mess in Sweet Pea’s arms and it’s almost too perfect to be real.

Sweet Pea presses a kiss against the back of Jughead’s neck, right were the bite mark is, a dark bruise that stands out starkly against the paleness of Jughead’s skin, then lets his eyes slip shut as he waits for the knot to go down. His free hand leisurely stroking along Jughead’s heaving flank until it comes to rest on the jut of his hipbone, possessive, so close to where they’re still joined.

The moon has always known what’s best for him, Sweet Pea thinks with a soft sigh, happy and content.

~*~*~

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to chat you can find me on [tumblr](https://yukichouji.tumblr.com/).
> 
> Feel free to drop by anytime~  
Thank you for reading <3


End file.
